


Sinking

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 04:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21404005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Erestor just wanted a nice soak.
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel/Lindir
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105





	Sinking

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

On the rare occasions where Imladris is free of guests, the hot springs aren’t often in use, at least, not late in the evening, when Erestor finally allows himself to end his work. It works better for him anyway—he prefers to enjoy the darkened pools in peace and quiet. While most others are long asleep, Erestor gathers his robe around himself and descends down the twisting stairs. He finds the changing rooms before the baths as empty as he’d expected. The sconces are still lit, the flickering candlelight warm and comforting despite the cool autumn night above. There, Erestor sheds his sandals and his outer robes, hanging them on the many twisted branches that work as pegs. In only his thin slip, he wades around the corner, down the long corridor, though his footsteps slow when he hears noises.

A gasping breath echoes off the walls. It’s hushed, kept low, but bubbles into a languid moan that makes Erestor’s cheeks heat. The corridor is warm enough from the steam that billows in off the hot springs. He pauses, unsure if he should continue, then realizes that he recognizes that soft voice. It’s that of his assistant. And it breaks in a short cry before panting hard and groaning deep. Erestor realizes exactly what is happening. His lovely Lindir, such a shy and innocent creature, is _fornicating in the hot springs._

When the numbing shock has passed, Erestor quickly marches forward, frown set in a thin line. He’s no longer looking forward to his own relaxation, but back in the full mode of Lord Elrond’s chief advisor. It’s Erestor job to ensure the smoothing running of Elrond’s home, to upkeep its efficiency and propriety. To think that his own assistant would sully public spaces is unconscionable. He imagines he’ll be lecturing Lindir for so long that he won’t even have time for his own bath. 

He rounds the corner and squints through the low-lit, fog-filled room. He finds Lindir half buried in one of the smaller pools near the back, facing away, with pale arms around his back; clearly, he’s sitting in someone’s lap. From the looks of things, he’s bouncing up and down on it. His noises are absolutely _sinful_. The water laps up his slender back, splashing with each thrust, his hair drifting across the surface. The hands holding him explore the smooth expanse with relish. Lindir ducks his head forward onto his lover’s shoulder. 

Erestor comes around enough to see who that lover is, and he freezes.

Lord Elrond spots him. Elrond’s lips pull into a frown, and he stops Lindir, who whimpers but obeys. Then he glances sideways and sees Erestor too, his pretty eyes going wide as saucers. 

For a few brief seconds, Erestor is paralyzed. Then he dips into a bow and says as he rises, “My apologies, my lord. I did not realize it was you.”

“No,” Elrond returns, voice as steady as always, regardless of his most compromising position. “It is I who apologize.” He sighs low, his eyes rising to Lindir, who blushes and bites his bottom lip. Elrond murmurs, “I am aware that this is inappropriate. But I could not resist my sweet songbird.” A fond, fleeting smile changes his expression, before he controls it again and tells Erestor, “We will cease immediately.”

“No, you may finish.” If it were anyone else, Erestor would be chasing them away without even giving them time to redress. For his lord, who deserves so much more _love_ than he usually receives, Erestor promises, “I will make sure no others come down in the meantime.” Yet he still can’t help adding, “However, this would be unwise to do again.”

Elrond’s expression softens. He agrees, “You are right. ...Thank you, my friend.”

Erestor bows his head. Lindir has hidden his face in Elrond’s shoulder again and can’t seem to meet his eyes. That’s well enough. Their meeting will be awkward in the morning. 

But that’s a trouble for another day. In the meantime, Erestor goes to wait in the changing room, pondering why he’s never thought to bring his own lover down into the pools.


End file.
